Descriptive Writing

Graveyard

     She opened the old, rusting gates of this cold, moist, and shallow place; death welcomed her breath by breath. Rows of tombstones stood straight in silence to the left and right, in front and behind, like the sea of dead. Some were crumbling from the weathering they had been experiencing through the years, and the engravings had nearly disappeared; Ivy crept over its face in a last insult to the late person memory, casting them farther into the dark oblivion of unrecalled history. The constant haze hung on the stone of the dead like a stout, suffocating sheath, causing a relentless misery on all who trespass through it.

     The graveyard was no more than a series of stone crosses of arbitrary size stuck in a deep loam. The smell of decaying stone filled the cold air, high grass-covered the graves of the dead, long forgotten and untaken care of by their loved ones. She felt the temperature suddenly dropping near freezing as she stepped through the cemetery gate, along the overgrown path; sensing the disembodied voices of forever lost souls that once walked the earth seem to be carried through the haze that was rising from the cracks in the pory path.

     Silence was all that she could hear. It was so loud and hard to the point where she couldn't even catch the sound of crunching gravel and dried leaves beneath her feet or the hard thump of her heart beating against her chest, ready to leap out in horror. However, the deafening silence didn't last very long when suddenly, without warning, an ear-splitting shriek pierced through the thin icy air like glass shattering in all sorts of directions, breaking the silence. The flaps of a blackened crow could be heard from nearby. It shrieked again, and again, like the screaming of a child, or roaring of some terrible beast, the presence of neither will seem strange in this place.

     The moonlight cast its eerie shadow upon the path that lied ahead of her. It beckoned with a ghostly glow as the clouds moved apart from that none can resist. Pulling, pushing, luring, each victim further through the mist, each one silenced by the beauty, terrified by the power. Most people must have thought bravely to themselves as they passed this locality. Or tried to...in spite of the sudden dryness of the mouth and the quickness of the heartbeat.

     How could a place be so full, yet so empty at the same time? The hundreds of rundown tombstones she's walked past with their faded etching around her, a roll-call for the people who cannot answer. For when their bodies become still and cold, they become a cadaver. She clutched her cross pendant around her neck and believed its protection as she thought about the souls of the lifeless corpses and their living being, how they had moved on to God, to walk with Jesus, to be healed and cleansed from all sins committed. And yet, she felt how the graveyard was still so full; full of stone, moss, yew trees and decaying remnants of bone and flesh. Full of souls asking for purgatory to finally be in peace. But it's empty. There was nobody there but herself.

     BEEP...BEEP...she jumped at the sound of her wristwatch alarming her that time had struck midnight. 'The witching hour has started' she thought, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up and sent chills down her spine yet again. There was no sense in looking for trouble, besides, sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted. The thought didn't make her feel very alone anymore. She glanced nervously around her, searching for the eyes that were surely watching her. She knew it wasn't a wise idea, but she came to this gruesome place anyway. She tried staying positive, but that didn't help calm the adrenaline that rushed through her veins. The presence was now closer, and the air was becoming more and more intense.

     She didn't feel safe. She never did since she walked through the gates of this used, and forgotten yard. She felt like a deer, exposed for its predator, ready to be captured and eaten alive. She tried to take a few calming breaths, but the ball of terror what then in her throat threatened to escape her lips and scream into the cold, dark night.

Then, a loud snap came close from behind her. She whirled around, shone her torch, and looked for the cause of that sound but saw nothing. Her face became shocked white as the blood drained from her face forming pressure in the middle of her head. Slowly, she turned with her eyes tightly shut, afraid of what might be in front of her and stopped. She finally opened her eyes to become face to face with some dark, hideous creature she's never seen before. She wasn't sure if her mind was playing tricks on her or if what in front was real, but fright was enough for her mind to go numb.

     The stress, anxiety, and fear was suddenly all too much. Her mind became tangled, and everything was spinning. The creature showed its sharp teeth and let out a loud roar, and she finally let all that tremor out into a strangled scream. Her vision blurred, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her consciousness was now floating through an empty space filled with thick static, and she sank back and started to drift through the inky space, listening to the loud poundings of her heartbeat echoing in her ears; alongside fading pleas for help and fought to remain conscious. It was no use though. Nobody was there.

     All was pitch black.

954 words